Chapter One Hundred and Seven: West Gate City, Part One

At this moment, Qianyin and Coldblood had already arrived in Ximen City, where they were immediately escorted to the hotel by Killer Move’s staff. Han insisted on tagging along, but the host refused, explaining that every room was assigned according to ranking, and everyone had to stay in their own quarters.

The hotel was bright and splendid throughout, suggesting the other assassins had already checked in; only this group remained. They formed a sizable contingent as they entered.

Although Han was eager to visit Qianyin’s room, one glance at Coldblood’s murderous gaze made him abandon the thought. He still had to see who the architect of the assassin world truly was—it would not do to lose his life in vain.

Coldblood also wished to stay with Qianyin, but such arrangements were forbidden here. The origins of this hotel were unclear, its safety uncertain, surrounded as it was by assassins attending the gathering. If anything happened, he feared Qianyin might be hurt.

However, their rooms were adjacent; the doors faced each other. Should anything arise, a message would suffice.

Qianyin understood the look in Coldblood’s eyes. She approached, took his hand, pulled him gently, and rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Smiling, she turned and entered her room; the journey had left her exhausted, and she intended to sleep well.

Coldblood savored the kiss. With a bang, he closed his door, gazed quietly at the ornate lamp on the ceiling, feeling content. Weariness soon overtook him, and he bathed and went to bed.

The boss arrived in Ximen City under cover of night. He was the mastermind behind these events. Though he had not founded the assassin world, its creator now collaborated with him, leaving him in temporary charge.

He had come specifically to observe these people, seeking skilled allies willing to work with him; Han alone was not enough. Han’s temperament was too eccentric, sometimes utterly unmanageable.

His favorites were Qianyin and Coldblood, but how could he persuade them to join his ranks? He had considered destroying what he could not possess, yet he cherished talent too much to let such people die so soon.

Mo Lan and An Feng found themselves idle, contemplating contact with the pair, yet fearing an argument. They wanted to follow secretly but worried Qianyin would be angry, leaving them deeply conflicted.

Once affairs were settled, Mo Lan visited An Feng’s home. Uncle had prepared a late-night snack for them, baffled by their worries. These two youngsters seemed troubled again, their faces clouded as if aged by years.

“Is something bothering you? Sometimes acting is more useful than thinking,” Uncle said, then turned to his room. He dealt with endless household matters but never seemed troubled himself.

The two exchanged glances after hearing Uncle’s words, finished their meal, and went to rest, resolved to seek Qianyin early the next day. Indeed, sometimes action is more effective than contemplation.

The rankings of the four little ones were lower, so they were not assigned to the same floor. Back in their rooms, they received an invitation from the boss—his first meeting with them, piquing their curiosity.

Yet the four rejected the boss without hesitation, vowing never to betray Qianyin. The boss was undeterred; he intended to personally invite every assassin except for those he already knew.

He had already recruited most of those he could; as for the rest, it mattered little—one day, they would believe he was the world’s highest authority.

The boss visited Coldblood’s room but left Qianyin undisturbed. After all, several in the hotel cared deeply for Qianyin, each formidable; he preferred not to confront her just yet.

“What are you doing here?” Coldblood asked, having risen to answer the knock, expecting a familiar face—familiar, perhaps, but not friendly.

The boss strode in regardless, settled onto the sofa, and surveyed the room’s arrangements with satisfaction. These people could handle small matters well enough to please him.

Coldblood closed the door and turned, surprised but far from pleased at the boss’s arrival. This man threatened Qianyin’s safety; he could not be allowed to remain in this world.

“Stop hoping for my death. Even if I die, you won’t win Qianyin,” the boss said, his words ambiguous, as if casting himself as Qianyin’s lover.

Coldblood rolled his eyes. “You’re alive, she’s mine. Once you’re gone, you’ll only make room for others.”

The boss, seeing Coldblood remain silent, spoke again, “I really do appreciate you. So please, give it some thought.”

Coldblood shivered, goosebumps rising, and replied earnestly, “Sorry, I’m not interested in men.”

The boss nearly choked on his own saliva. Was Coldblood feigning ignorance? He clearly understood the meaning, yet twisted the words.

After coughing a few times, the boss looked at Coldblood and said, “One day, you’ll willingly join my team, gladly become my right hand. I guarantee it.”

“It’s late. Please leave, boss, and let me rest,” Coldblood replied, opening the door with a gesture. The boss took no offense, stood, and walked out.

The boss’s last stop was Han’s room.

“What brings you here?” Han asked, displeased. Meeting Qianyin here was rare; now this man was disturbing him again.

“I came to tell you: behave yourself, don’t disrupt my plans,” the boss said, then departed, leaving Han sleepless that night.

Han could not understand why the boss had come, or why he could enter the hotel so easily. Was the boss orchestrating everything?

In just one night, out of three thousand assassins, twenty-five hundred joined the boss’s ranks. The remaining five hundred simply disliked the lack of freedom and refused the deal. Their negotiations failed, yet having met the boss, their latent malice began to rekindle, bit by bit.

These assassins would inevitably turn to evil. If not subdued by law enforcement, they would become merciless killers. Even as five hundred resisted the boss tonight, when the evil in their hearts revived, they would willingly serve him.

“Moon” was already tainted by evil in its surroundings. If no one dispelled this darkness, “Moon” would be defiled. Though “Moon” now held a significant advantage, the world was vast; its endurance would surely be tested.